Maybe another time
by mew-tsubaki
Summary: Things are put on the back burner, to be done and considered another time when Oharano's future isn't at stake. *spoilers for ch89; light T for language*


**Maybe another time**

An All Out! oneshot

by mew-tsubaki

Note: The _All Out!_ characters belong to Amase Shiori-sensei, not to me. Done for ebumimasaru on tumblr, because ch89 made her say "Fix this mew." ;w; Read, review, and enjoy!

\- ^-^3

It seems like a bad injury at first, because of Oharano's intense pain, sensitive to the touch and turning an unnatural hue right before their eyes. He's never experienced this before, so what washes over him is too much to bear, takes much more than just gritting his teeth. Komori doesn't know what to tell him because the old coach has seen a lot of injuries in his time; best to leave it to the pros, to the doctors, to evaluate it.

Preferring a quicker evaluation in case it really _is_ bad, Komori keeps the others playing and all but tells the third years and Matsuo especially to put their grievances with each other aside and finish the match while Yoshida zips Oharano to the nearest hospital. The last thing Oharano sees before Yoshida's sedan pulls away is Umeno grabbing her emergency contacts list and informing Oharano's parents who he's with and where he'll be heading.

Jinko, of course, finishes the match while Oharano is stuck in the ER waiting room with Yoshida, beside Yoshida, who taps his feet nervously on the linoleum floor as if it's his son who's already somewhere back there with doctors and nurses and not his student sitting beside him, waiting for x-rays. It takes forever for Oharano's parents to turn up only because they both work, but Oharano hasn't looked at his phone the whole time. He doesn't want to know the game's over. He doesn't want to know that they lost without him—or worse, that they can win without him. Either outcome feels like a heavy weight on his shoulders. Not a burden. Just. Guilt.

Yoshida tries to make himself useful by offering to arrange with Komori to bring Oharano's other belongings, but Oharano ignores him and keeps ignoring the texts coming to his phone. He doesn't want Yoshida's babying or Komori's offer or Jinko's news or his brother's concern over unanswered texts.

But, when the doctor calls him in for x-rays, his stubbornness that masqueraded as strength evaporates. And shit. He's scared. He knows sports injuries happen all the time, plenty benign, but he's so scared this is it. He's done playing this game that he actually loves.

Oharano hates this. He hates it so much. He hates Yoshida waiting outside because his parents still aren't here yet. He hates having to wear the lead gown to protect the important bits while they take x-rays. He hates the too-nice nurse who helps him into each and every position so the doctors will have all the images they need.

But what he hates most is the wait. That awful not-knowing is worse than the knowing, and, even though Oharano's used to taking the occasional chance (he has to be, to convince his teammates to play better), he just. He can't _not_ know right now. He needs all the info, all the data, all the knowledge. _He just wants to fucking know already._

The doctor calls him in, and Oharano asks that Yoshida wait outside for his parents. The doctor has fully functioning models of knees in his office, and various posters illustrate bone structure, musculature, ligaments and tendons, and skin. It's like being surrounded by a knee otaku's belongings or something.

But when the doctor smiles, it's the first genuine thing Oharano has bought all evening. "It's a bad sprain," the elderly man says, the touch of gray by his temples moving up and down as he speaks kindly, "and you've badly bruised the joint. But nothing's torn or broken. Take care of it for a bit and no rugby practice for now, but you should be fine."

Oharano's…stunned. He's frozen to the examination table.

The doctor chuckles. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be careful, Oharano-kun, but our bodies can take a lot more damage than we realize. A heavier hit or a twist in the right direction, and we'd be having a different conversation." He writes something on a form, signs it, and passes it to the blond boy. "But, for now, I want you to ice it and take pain relievers to stay ahead of, on top of the pain. I want you to use a crutch for now, too, to keep your weight off it for the first couple of days. All right?"

Oharano leaves without further instruction, but he doesn't return to Yoshida yet. He rounds the corner like a zombie, still struggling to breathe, but his phone buzzes again, so he finally looks at it.

Hell. A text from Captain. Three from Hachioji. Two from Iwashimizu. One from Gion. Even one from Suwa, and it's dotted with a lot of ellipses.

Then there are five from his brother. …fuck. He shoots a quick "okay, be home soon" without reading them, and then he scrolls through the rest of his history.

Two. Two texts from Goshozome.

Oharano finds his breath as he sighs and scrunches his nose up at the name. Goshozome only has his number through the rugby nerd vine since their teams' practice match at the start of the year, and he's occasionally been pestering Oharano ever since. Rarely does Oharano deign to reply, and the first text he'd like to ignore:

 _-heya~ oharano~ you up for hanging out today? I can meet you anywhere~ (^ω^)/_

But the second…kind of hits him with a stunning shove:

 _-crap! i heard you got hurt! you okay? i can still meet anywhere~ need a hand heading home?_

Well, Goshozome's persistent, he'll give him that. But Oharano kind of likes how a small smile fights its way to his face at the text. Goshozome's personality is still there, and his ulterior motives are plain as day, and he's treating Oharano kindly because of his injury, but—

—but…maybe it'd be okay. Maybe Goshozome's half caring, half selfish motives could be the distraction Oharano needs right now.

…or maybe the adrenaline has gone to his head, and he thinks more clearly now that he's had time to wind down.

Oharano, feeling he's come to his senses, decides to keep the idiot from making a scene:

 _-i don't need help home; i've got my family. Maybe another time._

He hits send before he can doubt that "Maybe another time," and then he goes to where Yoshida and his parents are after he sniffles and makes certain he's not going to show anyone this weak side of him.

His parents fret but not worse than Yoshida, and Oharano takes the form the doctor gave him to the check-out desk himself, and the nurses get him set up with crutches. He practices a little on them, swinging a tad and rolling off his good foot and taking steps that are the right length, and then follows Yoshida and his parents out. The Oharanos thank the math teacher before parting, and Oharano's all too happy to stretch out in the backseat of his father's sedan on the ride home.

He spends the ride home staring out the window, mindlessly looking at but not watching the scenery fly by, sending quick, reassuring messages to his teammates and friends. A tiresome task, but a necessary one. He reads his brother's texts, but he doesn't reply to those. He'll be home soon enough, anyway.

Unsurprisingly, Tatsu rushes him when they walk in the door, but the younger boy's careful when he sees his older brother's crutches. "Does that mean…?" he asks, eyes wide and voice soft and hitched and timid. _Scared_. That breaks Oharano's heart.

"No, Tatsu. I'll be fine." Oharano looks at the three of them calmly and tugs on his rugby shirt. "If you don't mind, first thing on my list is a bath."

"Do you want some help?" his father asks, brow furrowed.

He shakes his head.

"All right… Dinner—Dinner will be ready in an hour," his mother forces out, and Oharano kind of wants to hug her to remind her that he's all right, but he also kind of wants to escape to the bath so he doesn't have to see their concerned faces for a moment.

The bath takes forever, but it helps him relax and unwind. Through the walls, he hears some commotion downstairs, but that's got to be Pomekichi finding his second wind before bedtime, and Oharano knows it'll be harder to do things with Pomekichi for a bit while he's laid up like this.

He finishes up and dons pajamas, half-assing drying his hair and letting his towel drape over his shoulders as he maneuvers getting downstairs (going up isn't so bad). But when he hears laughter—odd considering today's events—he hurries up to reach the ground floor.

There, in the living room, is Goshozome, disheveled and holding Oharano's other things from school. He perks up when he sees Oharano. "Ah! Oharano! Heya!"

Oharano gawks at him. There's a strangled, scratchy squeak in the back of his voice that peeks out and tunnels back down in his chest, making Oharano ultimately silent. So he shuts his gaping mouth and continues to stare.

"Etsugo, don't be rude to your guest," his mother chides gently, her demeanor completely different (maybe healed?) from when they arrived home. "Yoichi-kun," she says to the newcomer, "it's a bit late, so even if you can't stay for dinner, would you like something to drink?"

Goshozome beams at her. "I'd love that. Anything's fine, thank you." And he patiently waits at the vestibule while the rest of the family goes about their business: Oharano's father reading the evening newspaper, Oharano's mother pausing dinner to pour a glass of cold tea, and Tatsu setting up his homework in the living room, not minding the white noise coming from the TV in the form of news.

Oharano hobbles over to the third year, still flabbergasted. "You…"

Goshozome holds up his bags. "I asked around until someone said you got hurt during the game. I was pedaling my way here when Kamo hopped on the group chat and said they still had your stuff, so I took a detour." He laughs and holds his thumb and index finger up to his chin. "I feel like a dashing prince, come to deliver a gift for the princess."

Ah. There it is. Typical Goshozome. Finally Oharano finds his voice. "Go home," he says lowly so his parents won't overhear him being rude. Out of the corner of his eye, Oharano sees Tatsu turning their way curiously.

Goshozome heaves a slightly overdramatic sigh. "I will. In a moment. Do you know how far I rode my bike here? It's not even my bike. I have to return it to Captain on my way home…"

Oharano flinches, stunned anyone would go to such lengths for him or for anyone. "But…why?"

"Because you're hurt," the taller teen states simply. He puts Oharano's bags down and heaves a sigh of relief. "Man, I'm really glad your face is okay."

Oharano narrows his eyes at him and pretends to take a step toward Goshozome—only to place one crutch on the older boy's right foot "by accident." "I'm fine, thank you very much," he says dryly, and he draws a tiny bit of satisfaction from seeing tears well up in those nice, brown eyes.

Goshozome doesn't give up easily, though; that's why they're in this scenario in the first place. He grins through the tears and nearly chuckles at how Oharano's being his usual, stubborn self. "I was being serious." His eyes flash to Oharano's knee then back to the blond's face. "You…still gonna…?"

"I'll live."

Goshozome stares back for a moment, reading him. It's a bit unnerving, and Oharano's the first one to look away. The third year smiles again. "Good. I'm glad. You're someone I can't imagine not playing…"

Well, that's pleasantly flattering. Oharano blinks at the compliment.

"…and there are plenty of places we can still go while you're like this. Hell, I might even get the chance to carry you a time or two!"

Oharano stares at him again, huffy. "You're _that_ determined to be more than friends?"

The bluntness throws him off, and Goshozome reddens and hesitates. "Uh, well…" He scratches his cheek—of course someone vain like him doesn't run a nervous hand through his pretty hair. "I mean, I can keep hoping…and I'm all right with being friends for now…but even I know better than to chase after a lost cause after a while," he finishes with a soft chuckle, lacking the bravado of his usual haughtiness.

Oharano considers that soft chuckle, and he scrutinizes Goshozome before him.

Well-worn sneakers. Expensive-looking jeans. Ancient green hoodie with faint stains on the front, over some t-shirt. Hair combed, relatively styled…

…the way Goshozome shifts his weight on his feet, back and forth and back. The grip he has on the straps of Oharano's bags even though they're on the floor; he's reluctant to let go and leave. The delight on his face when Oharano's mother remembers to pass him a drink, and his delight when she calls him "Yoichi-kun" again (and, honestly, Oharano's going to have to figure out what magic Goshozome pulled on his family to get them to warm up so quickly, like what the honest fuck).

Goshozome turns and catches his eye, but he reddens at the sudden attention, and he sips the tea.

"Ah."

Goshozome freezes. "What?" he bumbles, his face draining of all color.

Oharano reaches up and plucks a feather from Goshozome's hair, a feather tucked into a blond tendril, easy to miss without the contrast of the sepia streaks, easy to miss if he hadn't been eyeing him so thoroughly. "You had this stuck in your hair."

"Oh…" Goshozome's smile is big and awkward in his embarrassment. "I had to get my pet bird back in his cage quickly before I rushed out. Guess I didn't bother checking my appearance…" At that thought, he realizes what sweatshirt he's wearing, and his embarrassment intensifies. He hates how he looks a mess, especially in front of Oharano, of all people, and in front of Oharano's family, too…!

There's a twitch at the corner of Oharano's mouth, and he's glad Goshozome doesn't see his bemused smirk. This idiot… Rushing out of nowhere, feathers in his hair, on a borrowed bicycle…and he can't even stay for dinner.

Well, maybe another time.

\- ^-^3

 **So that happened. XD Honestly, this was just written for ebumimasaru via text because the manga's being so mean to Oharano rn (and it's killing uS ALL THAT IT AIN'T TRANSLATED YET D8), but, after my hands were done hurting (bc holy fuck this was over 2K words like wtf), we decided I should polish this and post it. So. Yeah. Now I like Goshoha/Goshoetsu a bit (tho my top Oha OTP is Suwaoha ;P), and I had fun writing this. I kinda want to doodle them… -w-**

 **Thanks for reading, and please review! I've got more** _ **AO!**_ **fics in the works, so take a look and come visit me on tumblr (at le-amewzing) for fanart, too!**

 **-mew-tsubaki :D**


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